Wedge Antilles and the Giant Mirrorball of Doom
by Zimre Fa
Summary: Wedge Antilles thinks he is just an ordinary hotshot orphan pilot - until he is visted by a giant bearded man who tells him that his long lost sister is alive. Wedge, Janson and Iella journey to the Giant Mirrorball of Doom in order to rescue her.
1. The Sister Who Lived

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Some humour intended. Some humour may be accidental. The author can accept no responsibility for unexpected funniness.

**Chapter 1 – The Sister Who Lived**

General Wedge Antilles lay awake in his 115th story apartment on Coruscant, the planet that was a city (and therefore unsustainable due to the absence of natural resources, eg. where does the air come from when there are no trees?), and the galactic seat of the New Empire, I mean Republic.

He turned to glance at his chrono. It registered one minute to midnight. He sighed. In one minute, it would be his birthday – not that anyone would care. His fiancée, Iella Wessiri, was on a girls-only vacation. His fighter squadron was off on a galaxy tour, to promote the latest holobook about their adventures: 'X-Wing: Starfighters of Adumar'. Luke, Leia and Han are main characters and so can't be in this story otherwise they would overshadow Wedge.

Wedge sighed again. The chrono changed to display midnight.

BOOM.

Wedge sat up in bed, alarmed. What was going on?

BOOM.

It sounded like someone knocking very heavily on his apartment door. Why didn't they use the door chime, like everyone else? Grabbing his blaster from under his pillow, he raced out into the hallway.

SMASH!

The door that Wedge had just been about to answer came toppling forwards, and he only just leapt out of the way before it fell onto the floor with the sound of cheap Star Trek scenery hitting carpet.

PLUMPH!

An enormous, bearded man stood in the doorway. Then he was obscured from view again as the emergency apartment firedoor slid shut.

There was a pause. Then the doorbell chimed. Wedge hesitated for a moment, then pressed the intercom button.

"Uh… who is it?"

"Me name's Dubious Haggar. Yeh don't remember me, but I knew yeh when you were a baby."

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk to yeh. It's about yer sister, Sledge."

"My sister's dead."

"Tha's what yer uncle told yeh."

"What uncle?"

"The uncle every hero has that tells 'em lies about their past."

"Oh."

"Your sister didn't die with yer parents when those evil pirates Who Shall Not Be Named blew up their refueling station. She escaped."

"She did? Well, where is she?"

"That's what I wan' to talk to yeh about. Your sister Sledge is in trouble. She's caught in a trap, there's no turning back, she needs yer help!"

"I think you'd better come in."

* * *

Haggar sat in the lounge, dwarfing a double settee, whilst Wedge brewed up a cup of tea.

"Milk, sugar?" called Wedge.

"Jus' as long as there's no ice, I don't mind. Don't understand these daf' New Yorkers, I mean Coruscantians, drinking tea with ice in. It's jus' not proper."

Wedge returned from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming tea.

"Don't ask me. I won't touch iced tea unless I happen to be stuck in Norway, I mean Hoth, and have no choice."

Haggar took his tea and smiled warmly at Wedge.

"'Appy birthday, Wedge!"

Wedge took a seat, looking at Haggar in surprise. "Thanks."

Haggar leaned forward. "You're a wizard, Wedge."

"What?!!!"

"A wizard pilot, that's fer sure."

"Oh. Thanks. Um – didn't you want to tell me something about my sister?"

Haggar took a slurp of tea. "Yes, that's righ'. Your sister, Sledge." He took another slurp of tea. "She's caught in a trap, there's no turnin'- "

"_Details_, Haggar, please?"

"Yeah… righ'… I was jus' comin' ter that. Well. After yer parents were killed by the Pirates That Cannot Be Named-"

"Why can't they be named?"

"Because no one's written an Extended Universe book abou' yer history, yet, Wedge. We don' know what the Pirates were called."

"Oh, right."

"Anyway, as I was sayin', after yer parents were killed by… were killed, your sister Sledge thought you were dead, too. She left home and ended up as a bio-engineer. She designed a process fer large-scale production of Midiclorian cultures. You know, those little green things that live inside Wizards, I mean Jedi, and are not found in Muggles, I mean Non Force-Sensitives."

Wedge nodded in understanding, and placed his thumb and forefinger under his chin to indicate that he was listening intently. He didn't have a clue what Haggar was talking about.

Haggar continued: "Her plan was to put Midiclorian cultures in her own brand of Force-Yogurt, and sell it ter anyone wanting ter enhance their force-sensitivity. For a few years, she made a killin'. Then the Empire got wind of it. They wanted the technology fer themselves. When she refused ter tell 'em her trade secret, they kidnapped her and raided her factory. But they couldn't figure out the midichlorian growin' process, the buffoons. They are demanding she tells 'em. She won't, of course. You have to help her!"

"Wait. How do you know all this?"

"She managed to get a message to me by jettisoning an escape pod with a droid in it from the space station she is being held in. The Empire didn't shoot it down, because their aim is notoriously bad and they missed."

"That figures."

"She's being held in the Giant Mirrorball of Doom."

"The what? Don't tell me this is one of Qwi Xux's creations from her hip, teenage years."

"Who?"

"Qwi Xux. Ex-girlfriend. Designer of the Death Star."

"Oh. No, this one's new. In a retro sense. You know how it is with fashion." He eyed Wedge's tartan pyjamas. "Or maybe yeh don't."

Wedge ignored his comment. "OK, so how do I get her out of there?"

"It won't be easy. The Giant Mirrorball of Doom is laden with booby-traps and near-impossible tasks that only a true hero can complete. Or something. Beware of Fluffy."

"_Fluffy?_"

"A three-headed rancor. Very dangerous, and very hungry. But all yeh need ter do is play some music and he'll go righ' ter sleep."

"Really?"

"No. Fluffy's a crazed maniac who hates music."

"So why did you tell me he'd fall asleep if I played music?"

"I shouldn't 'ave told yeh that. I'm sorry. I was jus' messin' with yeh."

"Great."

"So, are yeh gunna help her?"

"Of course I am. We are family, after all."

* * *

At the break of dawn, Wedge descended to the ground-floor garage where his X-Wing was parked. It was right where he had left it after the previous day's trip to the local supermarket. He was just about to start climbing the ladder when he heard someone shouting.

"Wedge! Wait!"

He turned to see two figures running towards him. One of them was Iella Wessiri, his fiancée, and the other was his old friend and fellow pilot, Wes Janson.

"What are you two doing here?" Wedge asked in surprise, stepping away from the ladder. "I thought you were on holiday," he said to Iella. "And you're supposed to be on tour." This last was directed at Janson.

"We came back early," Iella said.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to miss this special day," Janson said, grinning.

Wedge looked at them, his eyes shining. "You… you remembered?"

"How could we forget?" Janson said.

"We had to be here for this important occasion," Iella said.

Wedge felt his eyes watering. And there he had been, thinking that no one even cared about his birthday.

"No, we couldn't miss Coruscant's Annual Plant-a-Tree-And-Create-An-Atmosphere-So-We-Can-Actually-Breathe-Day!" Janson enthused brightly.

Wedge dabbed at his eyes, thinking himself the luckiest guy in the galaxy. Then he took in what Janson had said. "What?"

"What's wrong, Wedge?" Iella was looking at him in concern. "Did you forget to have your mail-order Endor tree delivered?"

Wedge looked miserably at his friends. "No. Well, yes. But it's-"

"How could you forget! That's terrible, Boss," Janson chided him.

"Well, I… uh…" Wedge hung his head in shame.

"Never mind, you can help me plant my tree," Iella suggested kindly.

"Thanks, Iella," Wedge said gratefully. Then he remembered something. "Wait – I can't. I've got to go and rescue my sister."

"What sister?" Janson queried.

"My long-lost sister, Sledge. She's in trouble with the Empire."

"Is she good-looking?" Janson asked eagerly.

"How should I know, I haven't seen her since she was seventeen."

"Well, was she good-looking _then_?" Janson pressed.

Wedge sighed, exasperated, and gave Iella a look. She grinned in response. He turned back to Janson.

"She looked like a female version of me. OK?"

Janson eyed Wedge closely, as if considering something. Then he grinned cheekily. "Sounds good enough for me. So, when are we leaving?"

"We?"

"You weren't planning on rescuing your sister by yourself, were you?" Janson folded his arms and waited for the response.

"Yes, actually, I was."

Iella stepped forward then, to get between Wedge and his X-Wing. "No, you can't. I won't let you go alone. Janson, for all his ulterior motives, is right. We're both coming with you!"

Wedge rolled his eyes. "No, you're not."

"Why not?" Iella asked defiantly.

"Because you won't fit in my X-Wing. See you later, enjoy planting trees!" He tried to move past Iella. She didn't budge.

"Typical starfighter pilot. Thinks the only space vehicle in the galaxy is an X-Wing. Did you really think you'd be allowed into Imperial Space flying one of these?"

Wedge made fish movements with his mouth.

"How about, instead, we fly a stolen Imperial Lambda-Class shuttle with security codes obtained by Bothan espionage?"

Wedge frowned. "Blasted Intelligence Agents! Why do you always have to come up with something… intelligent?"

"I'm the brainy character, Wedge. The clever one. You're the hero, who is good at flying, and Janson here…" Janson gave her a wink. "…is the comic relief character who is occasionally useful." She ignored Janson's offended look. "Come on, we've got to go, before your sister gets killed – or worse – chatted up by an Imperial who's even more despicable than Janson." Iella marched purposely off towards the door.

Janson shook his head. "She really needs to get her opinion of me straight. She's got me all wrong!"

* * *

Having acquired an Imperial Lambda-Class shuttle and security codes obtained by Bothan espionage, the three friends took off from Coruscant and set course for the Giant Mirrorball of Doom. Then Wedge pulled on the hyperspace levers, and the ship lurched into the starlined tunnel of hyperspace.

* * *

Wedge pulled on the hyperspace levers, and the ship lurched into the star-studded blackness of normal space. Looming in the viewport was an enormous, glittering sphere of many mirrored surfaces. The Giant Mirrorball of Doom! 


	2. The Giant Mirrorball

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Some humour intended. Some humour may be accidental. The author can accept no responsibility for unexpected funniness.

**AN:** Thanks, Plokoon, for your review of Chapter One. As requested, I am continuing the legendary adventure…

**Chapter 2 – The Giant Mirrorball **

Wedge, Janson and Iella stared out of the viewport of the shuttle at the amazing sight before them.

"Look at the glitteryness of that thing!" Wedge murmured in awe.

"It's reflecting all the starlight into crazy patterns!" Janson said, mesmerised.

"Anyone else getting the urge to boogie?" Iella asked. The other two looked at her blankly. "Guess not then. Oh – incoming transmission." She flicked a switch.

The voice of an Imperial Controller came over the radio. "We have you on our screen now. Please identify."

"Shuttle Lyferium requesting deactivation of the reflector shield," Wedge stated in authoritative tones.

"Stand by, Shuttle Lyferium," the controller responded.

"Standing by."

Iella switched the comm off. "OK Janson, have you got the clearance code ready?"

"Yup, it's alpha-charlie-echo-leviosa."

"That's levi-_oh_-sah, not levi-oh-_sah_," she corrected him.

Janson rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He glanced over at Wedge. "She's impossible!"

"Incoming!" Iella barked, and pressed the comm button. The controller's voice again came over the radio.

"Our records show that Shuttle Lyferium was reported stolen five standard months ago. You are imposters. Prepare to be boarded."

Wedge flicked the comm off. "Since when did the Imps have records?"

Iella shrugged. "Since they went retro, I guess."

A laser beam shot past the shuttle, missing widely.

Wedge whistled in disbelief. "They really are lousy shots!"

Janson began yanking at the shuttle's controls. "I'm getting us outta here. All this 'blast from the past' stuff is scaring me."

"No, wait!" Wedge stopped him. "If they capture us, we'll get on board that…giant mirrorball thing. And that's what we want!"

Janson looked doubtful. "Yes, but then they'll shoot us."

"No, they won't," Wedge assured him. "Their aim is lousy."

"Even at point-blank range?"

"Yup."

"But…" Janson began, then relented. "Wait, you're right. OK, we can be captured."

Iella raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about this? Trusting our fate to the marksmanship of an Imperial from an outpost we hardly know?"

Wedge and Janson replied in unison. "Yup."

Another volley of laser-fire erupted from the Mirrorball of Doom. It whizzed past everywhere but the shuttle and blew up an orbiting squadron of sentry TIE-Fighters.

Iella sighed. "OK, maybe you're right."

* * *

Wedge, Janson and Iella allowed the shuttle to be tractored into a hangar bay and boarded. They were then marched out of the shuttle by stormtroopers and taken to the station commander, Admiral Leech. 

Leech glowered at them coldly. "Just what do you three think you are up to?"

Wedge and co. lowered their heads and shuffled their feet.

"Nothing, Sir," Wedge said.

"You're getting detention, all of you," Leech continued.

"But, Sir…" Iella began.

"Silence!" Leech interrupted her. "Captain Felth, escort them to the detention block." He indicated to his second officer.

"Yes, Sir," Felth replied curtly, and motioned to the stormtroopers, who led our heroes away.

* * *

The three friends sat in a cramped detention cell, and pondered over what to do next.

"Well, they didn't shoot us. They didn't even try," Janson said.

"That's great, but now we're stuck in here instead," Iella replied whilst looking around for a possible way out.

"It could be worse," Wedge said. "They could have made us do lines or given us extra homework, too."

Iella was peering at something intently. "I've got an idea."

"Does it involve food?" Janson asked. "'Cos I'm hungry."

Iella glared at him. "No, it involves getting out of this cell, which at this time, I believe, has a higher priority."

"So, what's the plan?" Wedge said.

"We go through this trapdoor," Iella replied, pulling up a ring on the floor which opened a trapdoor, revealing steps descending into darkness.

Janson looked incredulous. "What? No, this is too easy. It's almost as if the Imps _want_ us to escape."

"Maybe they're tracking us," Wedge suggested.

"Whatever. Let's go!" Iella started down the stairs. Wedge shrugged and followed her. Janson hesitated for a moment, then went after them.

The three of them stumbled down the stairs, unable to see anything in the blackness and often bumping into each other. Suddenly there was a long, low growling sound.

"What was that?" Wedge said.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Janson said from behind him.

"Just stay calm, there's no need to panic," Wedge tried to assure him.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and found themselves in a large cavern lit by flaming torches. They were then startled by a portcullis slamming shut behind them, blocking the entrance to the stairway.

"Uh oh…" Wedge murmured.

In the middle of the cavern was a large, hulking creature of some kind. It moved, and got to its feet with the same low growl they had heard earlier. It looked like a rancor, except it had three heads. It drooled at them menacingly.

"What _is_ that thing?" Iella gasped.

"I guess it must be Fluffy…" Wedge said.

Janson's eyes widened in horror. "Can we panic _now_?!"

Fluffy roared with all three of its heads, and lunged towards them. The three friends scattered, and ran around the edge of the chamber. Fluffy swiped at them, but they dodged his claws, albeit narrowly. They skirted round the walls, but were unable to see a way out.

"There's no way out!" Janson cried.

Iella looked around furiously. "There must be!"

Wedge dodged a flailing claw from the roaring, enormous creature. "There'd better be! Or we're gunna be somebody's breakfast, lunch and dinner!"

Iella squinted into the gloom as she raced around the perimeter of the chamber, and finally her eyes came to rest on something. "Wait, I can see the way out!"

"Where?" Janson demanded from across the cavern, almost out of breath.

"There!" Iella shouted, pointing to a spot right underneath Fluffy. "It's another trap door!"

Wedge looked where she was indicating. "Great, but how are we gunna get to it?"

Janson grinned impishly. "Leave that to me. Oh, Fluffy!" He called to the creature, stopped running, and waved his arms in the air. Fluffy turned to him and roared.

"Yeah, that's right," Janson said. "You want some of that 'Janson' delicacy, don't ya? Very tasty, cooked to perfection, just the way you like it – extra rare."

Fluffy took a step towards him, and drooled. The trapdoor was now partially uncovered. Iella and Wedge, who were behind the distracted rancor, began inching towards it.

"Steady now," Janson continued. "You gunna wanna savour this meal, what with it being such a speciality and all…"

Suddenly, Fluffy lunged for Janson, leaving the trapdoor completely unguarded. Wedge and Iella raced for it and yanked it open. Janson ducked as Fluffy swiped at him, then ran right between the creature's legs. Iella and Wedge had already clambered down into the trapdoor passageway as he came racing towards them.

"Hurry!" Iella yelled. Janson dove through the trapdoor entrance just as a giant claw smashed against the opening, narrowly missing him. As the group made their way down the dark passageway, they were followed by the anguished roars of the rancor echoing behind them.

"Nice one, Janson," Wedge said.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Janson," Iella started. "What you did back there was crazy… but thanks."

"No problem. All in a day's work for the 'comic relief character who is occasionally useful'."

Iella sighed. "OK, I take that back."

"Why?" Janson seemed genuinely surprised. "I quite like it."

* * *

Our three heroes emerged from the tunnel into a high-ceilinged room with stone-paving slabs covering almost the entire floor. Each of the slabs contained a letter of the alphabet engraved onto it. On the other side of the room was a door, the only door apart from the one they had just come through, it would seem.

"What the blazes is this?" Janson exclaimed, and stepped towards the slabs.

"No, wait!" Iella cried, and pulled him back. "Look!" She pointed to an engraving on the wall to the left of them, and read it out loud:

'The steps you take must fall upon

The spelling of the world you're from

Beware that just one step misplaced

Will bring untimely death post haste.'

Janson snorted. "Who comes up with this stuff?"

Wedge was looking worried. "Never mind that, we have to know how to spell the name of our homeworld to get across this room. How the heck do you spell 'Correllia'? I mean 'Corelia'? I mean… blast it, I never could remember how many 'r's or 'l's there are…"

Iella groaned in despair. "This is an impossible task! Nobody can spell 'Corellia'! Wait… the way I said it just then was right. I think."

Janson brightened. "I can spell it! I'll do it!" He took a step forward, heading for a 'C' slab.

Iella pulled him back again. "No, Janson, _you're_ not from Corellia!"

"Oh." Janson scratched his head. "Oh yeah." His face took on a pained expression. "Oh no, do I have to know who to spell 'Tanaab', no, 'Taanaab', no… oh darn it."

"Didn't you just say you could spell 'Correllia'?" Wedge asked Janson.

"Yeah. It's like what you just said but with one 'r'," he replied.

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"Great, then me 'n' Iella can get across." Wedge took her hand and stepped onto the 'C' slab, then the 'O', with her following one letter behind him.

"Hey! What about me?" Janson called to them forlornly.

"You have a choice, Janson," Iella called back to him. "Either you guess how to spell 'Taanab' and endanger all our lives, or you wait here until we return with Wedge's sister, Sledge."

Janson thought about this for a moment. Then he looked up. "You are not gunna have all the fun without me!" He leapt onto a letter 'T', then a letter 'A'.

Meanwhile, Wedge and Iella had reached the first 'L'. Wedge looked back and saw Janson stepping towards an 'N'. He yelled to his friend, "'A', Janson!"

Janson paused. "What?"

"'A'!"

"'Hey' what? What's the problem?"

"No, not 'hey' – 'A'! You want the letter 'A' next!"

Janson looked uncertain. "You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"OK." Janson stepped onto the 'A', and nothing bad happened. He sighed in relief.

Wedge turned back to what he was doing, and made to step towards a slab. Iella yanked him back.

"'L'!" she shouted at him.

Wedge frowned. "Alright, no need to swear." He changed direction towards an 'L'.

Janson went for an 'N'. He stepped onto the slab, then paused, confused. "Hey, Wedge…"

"Surely not 'A' yet, I'm only on 'L'…" Wedge replied, and stopped, puzzled.

Janson continued. "…I've got to the 'N'…"

"Already? To the end? Congratulations! That was quick," Wedge said, impressed, then realised something. "Wait, how come you're still behind us?"

"…Any 'N's after 'N'?" Janson asked.

Wedge realised Janson was still trying to spell the name of his homeworld, and hadn't finished after all. "NEN's after 'N'? No, no, it's 'AB' next."

"A 'B'? OK, thanks," Janson said, and stepped onto a 'B' slab, just as Iella realised what was happening and screamed at him to stop.

"Nooooooooo!"

But it was too late.

Janson looked up in horror as the ground started to shake and crumble. The three of them fell to their knees as the whole floor collapsed beneath them, and then they were falling into nothingness…

To 'B' continued…


	3. The Game

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Some humour intended. Some humour may be accidental. The author can accept no responsibility for unexpected funniness.

**AN:** Thanks, Rogue SG-1, for your enthusiastic review. It inspired me to get a move on and write the next chapter.

**Chapter 3 – The Game **

Wedge thought he would be falling forever. Hands flailing, he plummeted downwards, unable to see. Then he landed knees-first on a spongy, soft surface, and keeled over sideways. He heard the other two land with muted thuds. Dazed and somewhat relieved to be alive, and better yet, unharmed, he sat up and called into the darkness.

"Iella? Janson?"

"Yes, Boss?" It was Janson.

Wedge's eyes were adjusting to the dim light now. He could just about make out the dark outlines of his friends. "Are you two OK?"

"Yes, thanks to this giant piece of foam we seem to have landed on," Janson replied.

"And no thanks to you, Janson!" Iella's voice came out of the gloom.

"So you're OK, then, Iella?" Wedge asked in concern.

Iella ignored him and continued to berate Janson. "Why don't you learn to spell?" "What? Wedge told me it was 'B' next, blame him!"

"Excuse me?" Wedge said.

"He did not. He said 'AB' not a 'B'," Iella contested.

There was a brief pause from Janson. Then: "You just said the same thing twice!"

"No I didn't, I said-"

"Just stop it, both of you!" Wedge cried in exasperation. They went silent. "Can we just concentrate on what we do now?"

"Yes, Boss," Janson said cheekily. "So what do we do now?"

Wedge thought for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Iella piped up.

"Yes?"

"We could go through this trapdoor." Iella pulled at something, revealing a lit opening in the foam.

Wedge blinked at it, and gave a low whistle. "You seem to have a knack for finding trapdoors, Iella."

"Almost as good a knack as Janson has for getting us into trouble," Iella replied as she descended through the opening.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault," Janson said, looking to Wedge for support.

Wedge was unsympathetic. "Just go through that door and be quiet."

Janson complied, still protesting bitterly. Wedge sighed and followed him.

The three walked along a brightly lit, wide passageway. Janson had not yet given up protesting his innocence.

"Hey – weren't we supposed to die if we spelled our homeworlds wrongly?" he said suddenly, after a period of thought.

"That's what the rhyme said, yes," Iella concurred.

"But we didn't die – and we found the way out, didn't we?" Janson continued excitedly.

"What are you saying?" said Wedge.

"That we were supposed to fail. I mean, if we had succeeded, we would have gone through the other door – but what if that was the wrong door?"

"You mean if we had gone through that door we would have met certain death, and that it was a trick?" Wedge said.

"Yeah, that's right!" Janson enthused. "The Imps expected us to be able to spell the names of our homeworlds, so it was a trap! The only way out was to fail!"

"So what you are saying," Iella said, "is that your stupidity saved the day."

"Exactly!" Janson beamed. "What would you do without me?"

Iella rolled her eyes. "I don't believe this."

Wedge shrugged. "The guy's got a point. I'll bet that other door was a self-sealing airlock or something."

"Yeah, I suppose that's possible," Iella conceded. "OK, next time we come to a door, Janson's going first."

Janson looked at Iella sharply. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Iella replied sweetly.

They shortly came to a door.

"Off you go, Janson," Iella said.

"Coming through!" cried Janson jubilantly, sailing past Iella. He slammed his hand on the door panel and waltzed through as it slid open. He looked back to see the other two gaping at him.

"What?" he said innocently. "You didn't think it was an airlock, did you?"

Iella, quickly recovering, muttered, "I live in hope…"

The three entered a large chamber, and were greeted by the sight of an enormous chequered square of floor, with giant holographic figures positioned on opposite sides of the square.

"Holographic chess!" Wedge exclaimed as the door behind them slid shut.

"But bigger!" Janson said.

"Extraordinary," said Iella. "But look, there's another trapdoor over there, on the other side of the room." She walked over to it, but quickly realised that this trapdoor was different to the others they had encountered.

"It's magnetically sealed," she called back to the other two.

"So how do we open it?" Janson asked.

"Well, either we break the magnetic seal using an encryption code we don't have, or…" Iella turned to the giant chess board with its enormous holographic figures. "…we play holographic chess."

"And if we win the door will unseal?" Wedge suggested.

"Or, maybe it will if we _lose_," Janson grinned.

"This time I think we have to _win_, Janson," Iella said, walking back over to them.

Janson's face fell. "Oh."

"So, which of us is the best at holographic chess?" Iella asked. Wedge and Janson looked at each other blankly. "Right. Let me rephrase the question. Which of us even knows how to play holographic chess?"

Wedge and Janson now both looked at Iella and shrugged.

"Never had time for it," Wedge said.

"Not really interested in it," Janson said.

"Great, just great," Iella said. "Am I the only one who's even had a go at it?"

Both Wedge and Janson nodded. "Yup."

"Right – get yourselves on that board and do _exactly_ as I say."

Wedge and Janson headed for the end of the board nearest the entrance door, with Iella directing them.

"Wedge, you take the Jedi Knight's position to the left of the King. Janson, you can be a pawn."

"A what? No way!" Janson protested.

"Just do it!" Iella barked, and Janson reluctantly joined a row of holographic pilots.

"Hang on a minute," he said, looking across at them. "I used to wear an orange flightsuit like that… these are Rebel Alliance pilots."

"That's right," agreed Iella. "Pawns." She marched over to an empty space. "I'm going to be the Queen."

Janson sniggered. "Well, that figures."

Iella shot him a look. "Are we ready?" she asked.

The other two nodded.

"The other side should move first… here we go."

A stormtrooper pawn on the opposing side had moved forward two spaces. Then all the stormtrooper pawns lifted up their blasters and started shooting.

"Are they supposed to do that?" Janson shouted over the sound of blaster fire.

"Not usually, no!" Iella yelled back, diving for cover.

"Then what do we do?" yelled Wedge.

One by one, the Rebel Alliance pilots were shot, falling into crumpled heaps on the board. Janson was fast becoming the last pilot standing.

"Iella, can I please move?" yelled Janson.

"No, stay there!" Iella shouted, thinking fast. "Knight to Queen's Bishop three!"

Their holographic Jedi Knight suddenly leapt into action. He somersaulted into the air, robes flying, and landed in front of Janson. There was an electroplasmic tearing sound as he ignited his lightsabre, and began deflecting all laser bolts that came his way. Janson was completely shielded.

"Nice move, Iella!" Janson cried.

Iella sighed with relief. "No problem," she said.

The stormtroopers halted fire as soon as they realised that the Jedi Knight was deflecting most of their shots. Instead they moved forward with a Sith. The dark-caped figure jumped in front of the stormtroopers, brandishing a red lightsabre menacingly. He looked straight at Wedge.

"You!" he said. "I challenge you to a duel."

Wedge looked at Iella in horror. "Can he do that?"

"He just did," she replied.

"But how can I duel him? I'm no Jedi, I have no lightsabre, no force sensitivity… what am I going to do?"

"Neither is he a Jedi, he's just a hologram that _looks_ like one. Stop being silly and get on with it," Iella said.

"Go on, Boss!" Janson yelled.

Wedge scowled at him. "You can be quiet." He cautiously took a step towards the Sith Knight, who readied his lightsabre and eyed him closely.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Wedge mumbled, then before he knew what he was doing, he found himself charging headlong at the Sith Knight, yelling at the top of his lungs. Somewhat surprised, the Sith was momentarily distracted, and had no time to react before he was rammed full-force by Wedge. The Sith's lightsabre flew out of his hand as he and Wedge went sprawling onto the floor. Angrily, the Sith pushed Wedge away from him. Wedge rolled over and found himself at the feet of a stoomtrooper pawn. It was aiming a blaster right between his eyes.

"Uh oh…" Wedge said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Sith get to his feet and slowly approach. Wedge looked up at the stormtrooper. "Your flies are undone."

As the stormtrooper glanced down in alarm, Wedge seized his opportunity and grabbed at the blaster. The stormtrooper jerked his hand up in panic and fired – the laser bolt struck the approaching Sith square in the chest. With a look of extreme surprise on his face, he collapsed to the floor.

"Woorrha! That got him!" Wedge cried, and yanked the blaster clean out of the stormtrooper's hand.

"Good work, Boss!" Janson yelled.

The stormtrooper pawn crossly raised his hands in surrender as Wedge stood up and backed away, the blaster trained on him.

"Hokey religions and ancient weapons…" he muttered as he returned to his square, and gave Iella a wink. "Rogue Leader reporting for duty! Awaiting further orders from Queen Wessiri." He saluted her smartly.

She looked at him askance. "I copy, Rogue Leader. I order you to watch your mouth!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Wedge barked, and proceeded to go cross-eyed as he attempted to focus on his own lips. Iella sighed and tried to bring her attention back to the game. What would be their next move? She cast her gaze on the opposition's King – he was a cowled robed figure, with a hood that hid his face from view.

"Wedge, toss me that blaster," Iella said.

Wedge did so. "What's the plan?"

"Well, the idea of chess is to checkmate the opposition's King."

"Meaning?" Janson chimed in.

"That we get him into a position where he is unable to move," Iella explained.

"OK, how do we do that?" Wedge asked.

"Well, you're supposed to move your pieces such that they surround the King and block all his exits."

"And?" Wedge pressed.

Iella looked grave. "To do that we'll have to sacrifice Janson."

"What?!" Janson cried, panic-stricken.

Iella laughed. "Gotcha! Just kidding." Janson glared crossly at Iella as she continued. "I think it might be easier, actually, if we just do this." Iella lifted the blaster, took careful aim, and fired. The opposition's King was cut down by a precision shot to the head. As he crumpled, the holographic characters all faded away, to be replaced by a large holographic sign hanging in the air. It read: "Checkmate. You win."

"Good shot, Iella!" cried Wedge in amazement.

Iella blew lightly over the end of the muzzle. "Ain't no match for a good blaster by your side…"

Suddenly everything went dark. Then the chess board was illuminated by spinning lights, and all the squares of the board lit up in different colours. The three looked up to see a rotating mirrorball descending from the ceiling. Then the holographic characters reappeared to the sound of disco music: "We're lost in music, caught in a trap, no going back, we're lost in music…"

The holographic figures were all leaping around, getting on down to the music. Iella grinned and ran to the middle of the floor, where she began to boogie along with them. "Come on guys!" she yelled to Wedge and Janson, who just stood there, dumbfounded. The next song came on: "We are family, my brothers and my sisters with me, we are family, stand up everybody and sing…"

Iella grabbed Wedge and Janson and dragged them onto the dance floor. Janson got into it fairly quickly, once he had got over the initial shock. Wedge was somewhat at a loss.

"I don't dance, Iella…" he protested, as she tried to whirl him around the floor.

As they later headed for the trapdoor, Janson looked over at Iella. "The way you won that chess game back there… not bad for a girl," he said.

She cast him a sidelong glance. "Really, Janson? That means a lot, coming from you."

Wedge sighed. "Can't you two just be nice for once, please?"

"What? Where's the fun in that?" Janson said with a grin.

Iella ignored him and pulled the trapdoor open. Once again, the three heroes found themselves stepping into the unknown…

To be continued…


	4. The Mirror of Ocsid

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Some humour intended. Some humour may be accidental. The author can accept no responsibility for unexpected funniness.

**AN:** It's been a long time since part 3, but the final installment is here. Enjoy!

**Chapter 4 – The Mirror of Ocsid **

Wedge, Iella and Janson emerged from the trapdoor passageway into a cavernous cavern of cavern-like proportions that looked as if it had been carved out of solid aluminium-nickel alloy. But on closer inspection, Wedge realized that the walls were only coated in an aluminium-nickel alloy coloured paint, and were actually made out of fiberglass.

_The Imps sure are getting cheap_, he thought.

On the other side of the cavern, he could see a large reflective rectangular sheet, standing upright on its end. Beside it, he could just make out two figures, standing motionless.

"What's this all about, then?" Janson asked, indicating the figures.

"How should I know?" Wedge replied.

"Only one way to find out," said Iella, and started forward. The other two gave each other a look, shrugged, and followed her. As they approached, Wedge noted that the reflective sheet was about twice the height of the two figures, and had a width of half its height. It was supported by an enormous golden frame, although Wedge suspected it was only painted gold and actually made out of papier-maché.

The figures were now close enough for Wedge to make out some detail. The one on the right was dressed in an ornate, flowing red robe and was wearing a large headpiece that vaguely resembled a jester's hat. The one on the left was dressed more simply, in a plain robe and hood. The two stood, unmoving, facing our three heroes as they drew closer.

"I don't like this, Boss," Janson murmered.

Wedge shuddered as an eerie chill ran up his spine. "Me neither," he replied.

"You two are such wimps," Iella said from in front of them.

Presently, our three heroes drew up before the two figures. It was clear now that they were both women. There was a moment of silence. Then the more ornately dressed woman, who also had powder-white face with painted red spots on her cheeks, spoke:

"Welcome. We have been expecting you."

"Who are you?" Wedge asked.

"I am Empress Amidala. Not the original Amidala, of course. I am a clone, re-born to rule the Empire!"

"What's left of the Empire, you mean," Iella said. "The New Republic's in charge now."

Empress Amidala narrowed her eyes. "We will see."

"Who's your friend?" Janson piped up, eyeing the robed woman standing next to the Empress.

"This is my handmaiden…" the Empress gestured to the other woman, who stepped forward, pulling back her hood.

"Sledge!" Wedge cried out in immediate recognition of his sister.

"Sledgé, actually," the Empress corrected him.

Wedge ignored her. "I got your message, Sledge. I thought you were dead!"

"Hi Wedge. It's been a while. How've you been?" Sledgé asked conversationally, tucking some shoulder-length dark brown hair behind her ear.

"Fine, yeah…um… I thought you were in trouble?"

Sledgé laughed. "No, not at all. It was all a lie to get you to come."

"What? Why?" Wedge gaped at her in shock.

Sledgé shrugged. "Like your friend said, the Empire has crumbled. We need to rebuild it. And you, Wedge, are the key."

"We? Sledge, don't tell me you've joined the Imps?"

Sledgé ignored his question and continued: "This …" she indicated the giant metal plate in its golden frame, "… is the Mirror of Ocsid. It will reveal the secret of the Force-Yoghurt creation process… but only to a true and valiant hero. When I heard this, I immediately thought of you, brother, the celebrated X-Wing pilot who managed to survive all three Star Wars movies where all other supporting cast perished…"

"Movies?" Janson gave Sledgé a confused look.

"Wait, you mean you never invented Force-Yoghurt?" Wedge interrupted.

"Not yet, but we will when we obtain the secret… it will allow the Empire to reclaim its former power. Empress Amidala will rule the galaxy and succeed where her heavy-breathing late husband so miserably failed!"

Empress Amidala gave Wedge a regal stare. "Sledgé speaks the truth. She is a loyal handmaiden. Now, General Antilles, look into the mirror and tell me what you see."

"Don't do it, Boss!" Janson cried. Wedge glanced over at him, then turned back to the Empress.

"And what if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, then your friends will be reacquainted with Fluffy, and this time there will be _no_ trapdoors."

"I suggest you do it, Boss!" Janson said quickly, then yelped as Iella jabbed him hard in the ribs. "Ow!"

Wedge shifted his gaze from Empress Amidala to Sledgé and back again. "And if I do look in the mirror and tell you what I see … how do I know you won't reacquaint us _all_ with Fluffy once you've got what you want?"

Empress Amidala smiled. That's to say, the corners of her painted mouth turned up a bit. "Sledgé, arrange for an escort to take General Antilles' friends down to Fluffy's chamber."

"Yes, m'lady," Sledgé said, and pulled a comlink from her robes.

"Wait!" Wedge put out a hand emploringly, and Sledgé paused. "All right, I'll look in your mirror!"

Empress Amidala nodded to Sledgé, who lowered the comlink. "Good. I'm glad you've decided to cooperate. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Reluctantly, Wedge turned and walked to a position in front of the mirror, keeping his eyes averted from its silvered surface. Iella and Janson watched in helpless anticipation.

"What do you see, General? I have to know what you see!" Empress Amidala was leaning forward, eagerly awaiting Wedge's answer. Sledgé looked on with wide eyes, excitement dancing across her face.

Slowly, unwillingly, Wedge pulled his eyes towards the mirror and gazed into its reflective depths.

There was a pause.

"Well?" Empress Amidala cut into the silence. Wedge briefly glanced at her, then back at the mirror. He cocked his head to one side, considering something.

"What is it? What's in the mirror?" the Empress demanded impatiently.

Wedge squinted at the mirror. "I could tell you, but…"

"But what?" Amidala fumed.

"You won't like it," Wedge finished.

"I'll be the judge of that! Just tell me!" was the Empress' indignant response.

"OK then," Wedge said. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Get on with it, Wedge!" Sledgé chimed in.

Wedge sighed. "I see me."

"And…?" Amidala pressed. Wedge shrugged.

"And nothing. I just see me. Like I would in any mirror."

"You're lying!" Amidala cried. "Tell me what you really see!"

"That _is_ what I really see. All I ever see in mirrors. Except…" Wedge leant forward and peered at the mirror more closely.

"Except _what_?" Amidala said hopefully.

"I seem to have a few more wrinkles than last time I checked…"

"You are trying my patience, Antilles! If you don't tell me what you really see in the next five seconds, your friends are going to be Fluffy's next meal!" Amidala seemed to be turning red, even through all the white make-up, and her agitation had caused her jester's hat to fall askew.

Meanwhile, Wedge reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red stone. Without hesitation, he threw it straight at the mirror. It shattered, silver shards cascading onto the floor.

"Nooooo!" the Empress screamed.

"Hey, where'd that stone come from, Boss?" Janson enquired as Wedge grabbed both him and Iella, and shoved them in the direction of the mirror frame.

"Wedge, what're you doing?" cried Iella as the three of them fell through the now empty mirror frame … and found themselves tumbling onto soft grass. They sat up, and noticed that they were surrounded by the trunks of several tall trees. Somewhere in the distance, a voice was saying, "… I'd like to thank everyone for their contributions to this year's 'Plant a Tree So We Can Actually Breathe Day', as it has been once again a resounding success. Our new forest will provide generations to come with natural beauty, pride, and of course, air."

Our three heroes looked at each other. "We're back on Coruscant," Iella said in surprise. "But how?"

"The mirror was a portal," Wedge explained. "The final trapdoor. It showed me that. As well as where to find the Force-Yoghurt-Maker's Stone." He felt around on the grass. "Aha! Here it is." He picked up a small red stone and showed it to the other two.

"That was the stone in your pocket!" Janson said. "How did it get there?"

"I don't have a clue – the mirror just told me it was there. Along with how to use it to escape."

Iella reached for the stone. "So this little stone is the key to making Force-Yoghurt? How exactly?"

Wedge shrugged. "Beats me. Don't want to know either. What do I want the Force for? I'd have to ponce around all day in brown-hooded robes acting all superior and spouting pseudo-philosophical nonsense. I just like to fly small one-man fighters and blast stuff. That's good enough for me."

"Fair enough," replied Iella. "Hey – isn't it a special day today? We should go and celebrate!"

"I'm not sure I'm all that interested in planting trees," Wedge sighed.

"No, Boss – your birthday!"

Janson and Iella dragged Wedge off to the nearest bar, where they bought him several rounds of drinks and partied the night away. During the course of the festivities, a somewhat inebriated Wedge managed to accidently drop the Force-Yoghurt-Maker's stone in Janson's beer, unbeknownst to Janson. What happened next is another story…

THE END


End file.
